Of a Dying Star: Freya
by brightneeBee
Summary: She witnessed it all. The worship of Gods and Goddesses. The destruction of Pompeii. The coming of Christ. The fall of Egypt, and Rome. The discovery of gravity. The wonders of Shakespeare and his plays. The golden era of art and music and love. And the wars. So many wars.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I haven't written anything in a good long while, but for now, I'm tinkering away on 2 ideas, and trying to reconfigure outlines for my previous WIPs that have kind of been left forgotten for some time, because honestly, I got burned out on writing altogether, plus my line of work took a lot out me, very stressful.**

 **If there is any potential for triggers, they will be posted at the beginning of each chapter, so keep an eye out for those, as well as a summary so if you're not able to read a chapter due to the trigger warning, you can at least stay up to date without experiencing the chapter in full. Summaries will be up here after the disclaimer and at the bottom after the chapter, so you can take your pick.**

 **If you have questions, or concerns, please PM me. Review if the mood strikes, and enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing, so Marvel please don't sue me.**

Prologue

She witnessed it all.

The worship of Gods and Goddesses. The destruction of Pompeii. The coming of Christ. The fall of Egypt, and Rome. The discovery of gravity. The wonders of Shakespeare and his plays. The golden era of art and music and love.

And the wars.

So many wars.  
Blood and death soaked the earth for thousands of years before the modern age emerged over the horizon, and she witnessed it all from the ruins of Olympus, surrounded by the bones of her brethren, the only family she had known for centuries upon centuries. The old ways had to fall away in light of the new beliefs growing in strength year by year. There had been no saving them from withering away in bitterness without utter faith.

Asleep for thousands of years, she watched over earth and mortals, waiting for the day that the universe would erupt in chaos, and she was needed to protect this world.

The awakening came in the form of the Avengers fighting off the Chitauri, and a large, green monster with eyes drowning in pain.

She woke with a name and a face clear in her mind, and faded away from the lush, overgrown vines covering the ruins of her only home, that had kept her hidden from the world for so long...


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: If I haven't announced it in the first chapter, then let me reiterate it, just in case. This will be a side by side fic to go along with Of a Dying Star: Friya. I am hoping both fics will end around the same timeline, and then converge into one fic following the Infinity Wars plot. (Already got the tickets!)**

 **Again, if there comes a chapter that may contain any triggers for people, I will post a warning at the beginning of the chapter and provide a summary so anyone who cannot read it, but would like to stay up to date, can do so without being traumatized all over again.**

 **As always, enjoy, and review if you feel like it.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing, so Marvel please don't sue me.**

Chapter Two

Sokovia. 2015.

The city was in the sky. The screams of people still trapped up there echoed down below, through the trees, the wildflowers, and the sounds of destruction. She could feel their fear, feel the pain the earth was experiencing because of this travesty. Natural law had been eviscerated as Ultron bent unseen forces to his will, desperate to complete a mission that he had warped into a need for planet-wide annihilation.

Ultron was a deadly plague upon the human race.

Was she too late?

 _Freya…_

Like a jolt to her system, Freya was pulled through a spectrum and to her sister's side. Amidst metal minions, gods, and experiments, she could see Friya, a shining beacon of starlight in the center. Fighting side-by-side with a scarlet haired girl, Friya demolished dozens of bots and kept the girl protected, simultaneously. They fought together, the only difference in their abilities being the color signifying the individual.

 _Freya…_

Unleashing her own power, Freya's blue energy whirled around her feet, destroying any of Ultron's clones that stepped in her path.

They both stopped short, unable to physically touch each other without severe consequences, as they were merely two-halves of one whole. The girl created a surge of power and slammed it into the ground, spreading out to shatter any remaining clones nearby.

"Wanda, go find your brother," ordered Friya, gently. "We will handle the rest."

"No, I won't leave you," exclaimed the girl, eyes desperate and pleading. "Please."

Friya simply shook her head, "Go. I will be along soon."

The girl, Wanda, finally accepted her orders and took off in search of her brother, leaving Freya and Friya to face each other. They didn't speak, moving forward in combining their abilities to save the people still in the floating city. Hovering her hands over Friya's, their lights mingled, and their magic surged outward rapidly. Tendrils of blue whirling around white searched the city and transferred any mortal to the helicarrier. Through the rubble and collapsed buildings, their combined force found every single person, alive or dead. The destruction began repair itself, the same time. They worked tirelessly, exhausting themselves to right this wrong, to fix what was broken, and destroy the rest of Ultron's army.

Once the first task was complete, they focused their extra energy towards lowering the city.

The Avengers were nowhere to be seen, and Ultron had disappeared from their range of perception, but they couldn't refocus now. Freya was the first to tap into the power of the earth, causing a resurgence through Friya, and their intermingling magic spread like fire through the ground, and like a fierce storm through the city, soaring high and low, encapsulating it all. The mechanism under the city was difficult to disable, but the energy it produced easily absorbed to fuel them both.

It was a cycle, but it worked. Within minutes, the propeller flying the city burned out, unable to produce as much energy as quickly as the twin beings were absorbing, and it was left to them to lower the city without destroying it further. Yet, it was Friya who was struggling, cut off from her own connection to nature.

Friya was bleeding from her nose, straining to hold the city steady.

"Reconnect to the essence of it all, sister," Freya said, feeling their control over the descent of the city slipping. "Open yourself to the universe."

Friya gasped, exhausted, "I'm blocked. My mind isn't fully healed."

"Rip it open."

"I cannot."

Freya did the one thing neither of them had been able to do since being separated so long ago; she pressed her palms to Friya's and intertwined their fingers, and allowed the magic to rip open their minds. Friya was pulled through Freya, and Freya through her sister, their essences melding together for a moment, as Freya searched for the blocks in Friya's mind, ripping them open, one by one. She didn't stop until her sister was uninhibited, and exposed, like a raw nerve.

Before the two sisters became one, Freya pulled away, stumbling backwards, as the force between them exploded outward in waves. Friya was still standing, arms stretched above her head, fingers reaching for the sky, and eyes shining brightly with the light of the moon and every star in the galaxy. Taking a breath, Frey took her stance opposite her sister, and lowered her arms to focus on the ground, reconnecting with the earth and nature, and letting that power surge through her with ease. Her eyes shone blue, and her magic returned tenfold to slow the city's fall.

Sokovia landed gently, the earth stitching itself back together seamlessly. Underground pipes formed back together, electric lines corrected themselves, and the city finished rebuilding itself around them. Whatever power they had left, returned to them in a rush that took them both down.

Friya collapsed, clutching her head, while Freya rested on her knees, out of breath and overwhelmed by the extent of energy required to do something on this enormous a scale. She could feel herself slipping into exhaustion, the periphery of her vision darkening. She looked to her sister, and whispered a small farewell, and allowed herself to be swallowed by the darkness. It was a fight that she could not win, and all she could do was use the last of her magic to find the Hulk.

She could see him, large and green and in such torment, and she disappeared in wisps of blue light, collapsing onto her side on the floor of the quinjet, to the confusion and surprise of the green giant.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Galaxy Unknown.

Freya woke with a startle underneath something very warm and very large. The air was heavy with a unidentifiable musk and a hint of spices, like cinnamon and vanilla flowers. It was a soothing, intoxicating combination of scents, and she breathed deeply, relaxing back against the metal floor of the quinjet.

It was simple to identify the palm of an oversized hand her head rested in, the warmth radiating from the green skin surrounding her, and the aroma of wild indian summers. Hulk had curled up with her to rest, and she was relieved to know he was starting to trust her. The first week in the cosmos had been spent with him keeping his distance, unable to speak more than his name, and refusing to let her move around without his intense gaze.

When she first woke, Hulk had been hovering over her, extremely confused and very interested, if not a touch wary. Her sudden presence had startled him, obviously, but deep down, she suspected he enjoyed the unexpected company. He had been feared and lonely for so long, everyone so careful around him, it must have unsettled him to have a strange being around that did not fear him on some level.

Stroking the mountainous bicep of his arm, Freya melted into the heat he gave off and fell back to sleep, perfectly at ease, and with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

They both woke up to a violent shake and the quinjet's critical alarms blaring.

Hulk rolled away from her, scrambling for the control station, while Freya took in the terrifying sight of an asteroid field circling a large gateway of cosmic gas burning orange and red. It was obvious to her that there was no escaping the inevitable: they would be sucked in.

Another crash threw her across the jet, and an asteroid hit the backend, ripping off the sealed door.

Freya grabbed whatever she could to prevent her from being sucked out, and she watched Hulk do the same, as more asteroids bombarded the craft, sending them towards the gateway with increasing force. They could do nothing except watch their fate loom ever closer through the windshield of the jet.

The bar she had been gripping for dear life ripped from the wall, and she was lucky and grateful that Hulk grabbed her by the waist and held her tightly to his body, as the worst of the battering stopped and the quinjet got drawn into the fiery cosmic hole.

It happened so quickly, neither of them had time to comprehend what was happening to the ship, or to them.

Whatever Hulk had been holding onto slipped from his grasp and they almost left the jet, but he clutched another bar attached to the ceiling. It held up for the majority of the stomach churning journey through the gateway, and Freya clung to him for the duration.

They were spinning through a hole of orange and red and purple; not a black hole, but not quite a rainbow bridge between realms. Hulk took the brunt of everything, as they were whipped to and fro against the inside of the jet, unable to stop it.

Freya couldn't slow them down, nor could she make this easier for them both to endure. They were moving too fast and she was too insulated by Hulk's arm and chest to see anything. There was nothing else to do, but manage the trip with a grain of humility. It could have been a lot worse.

Eventually, the spinning ceased, and then the gut-wrenching sensation of falling took over.

The jet tipped forward, tossing them against the windshield, and they crashed into a mountain of garbage and shredded ships. The quinjet levelled out, sliding down the side, and Freya was faced with a disorientated, enraged Hulk. Smashing around the damaged interior of the jet, he loomed over her menacingly. It was a sight that would strike undefinable fear into the heart of any mortal being, but Freya was an immortal. When he raised his large fist to smash her, it was nothing to catch it in her hand and stop him without straining to hold him off. She simply pushed it away, and caught the next fist with ease, unwilling to show weakness that he could pounce on. She was stronger than him, and she could easily beat him in a fight, but that was not why she was there with him. It was more than that, the draw to him. She woke from her trance because of him, and she was pulled to his side because of him. There was a reason that he needed her presence more than the Avengers on Earth.

"I'm not here to hurt you," she said softly, turning his fist over and opening it. She didn't break eye contact, while she used her other hand, glowing with calming blue light. "Let me help you."

He watched her warily, flinching and growling as she placed her palm against his. The blue light mingled over his skin, spreading through him in tendrils, and he quickly relaxed into her touch. Weaving itself through his veins, her magic worked its way to his brain, awakening parts of him that had yet to be unlocked, used, or simply hidden inside. She soothed his mind, and opened his horizons, easing him out of anger that still boiled under the surface. She welcomed him into enlightenment, and offered him a way to control his emotions to the best of his stunted ability, giving him more purpose, the ability to think and understand.

Hulk shook his head when she removed her hand from his, and peace settled upon him for a moment, enough time for them both to shake off their aches and injuries, and refocus. Hulk took control of the jet, and it stuttered to life with some effort, and Freya placed a hand on his shoulder to brace herself, pointing out a large city on the horizon. Once Hulk managed to get the jet in the air, he slowly maneuvered them forward, through the voluminous piles of discarded trash and the falling pieces descending from gateways all around the planet.

"Thank you," Hulk grunted, breaking the silence between them after a few minutes. "Shiny girl help Hulk."

"Freya, please," she replied, as gentle and sweet as a spring breeze along the coast of Crete. "I'm here for you, whatever you may need. I'm here to help."

"Freya," he repeated, a smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth. "Freya friend."

"Yes," she said, stroking her small hand down his arm with a warm smile, noticing the flickering monitor to the side of the console, and a blip following at an increasing pace. "I'm your friend."

A ship was coming up behind them, quickly, and the quinjet shuttered, losing altitude gradually. Things attached to the open back of their jet, and slowly drew them backwards, causing the engines to eventually give out. They thumped to the ground, and the pulling stopped. Whomever flying the craft that had captured them was landing, and a metal ramp slid out to the back of their jet.

Hulk broiled behind Freya, who placed a calming hand on his chest, watching to see who came out, if they were hostile. They were both tense, and it was agonizing waiting to see if they would have an ally on this planet, or need to launch into a fight to protect themselves.

Either way, they were in this together now.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Sakaar.

A valkyrie.

They had been bested by a valkyrie, and a drunk one at that.

Freya still had no idea how that woman managed to tag them both without noticing. Not until she activated the discs, electrocuting them into submission. The next thing she knew, Hulk had scooped her up and charged at the stranger, only to crumple under the surge of electricity overloading him. She was protected against his chest, and they were both dragged into the valkyrie's ship.

That had only been ten minutes ago.

Now they stood in a pseudo throne room, being presented to a man named the Grandmaster, smelling to high heavens of whatever filth they had been dragged through. Freya's long, dark hair was tangled and riddled with bits of garbage and small bits of metal. Hulk was covered in dirt, his ripped trousers close to falling off with one more good flex.

And the valkyrie?

Standing next to a seated Grandmaster, as he examined them both, with a smug smirk on her face.

"Are they he's?" the man asked their captor, more intensely focused on Hulk.

"The big guy is a he," she replied, confidently. "The small one is a she."

Frey and Hulk exchanged looks, disbelieving they were being examined like cattle for bid. It was the most insulting experience in her life, and she had lived during the age of ancient Greece. And Hulk seemed confused and peeved at this exchange.

"A-and...what are they?" questioned the Grandmaster, turning his eye from Hulk to Freya in a way that thoroughly unsettled her. "This one -What is she? Is she glowing?"

"Yes, she is," the Valkyrie just smirked, having witnessed the blue shimmer surrounding Freya mere minutes before, and had obviously recognized the identifying features of her race. "She's rare. They both are. Completely unique in the universe."

It drew the Grandmaster's interest, and Freya couldn't help to appreciate the irony, considering this valkyrie was also unique to the universe, the last of her kind.

It didn't last long, as the Grandmaster's guards closed in on her, and she was grasped by one of Hulk's large hands. He pulled her close and roared in warning, tossing one of the guards through a window. It was enough to keep the guards at bay, and delight the Grandmaster, who was rolling forward on his throne to get a closer look.

"Mine!"

Hulk growled low, hugging Freya to his chest. His skin was incredibly hot, the heat turning her pale complexion pink. She burrowed closer, wishing he had allowed her to handle the situation, but thankful she did not have to expose her talents so quickly. It seemed that Hulk had accepted her more completely than she had first realized.

The Grandmaster essentially paid the valkyrie for bringing him another contender for his Contest of Champions, while Freya and Hulk were electrocuted until pliant and able to be separated.

Freya watched from the floor as Hulk was dragged away for preparation, the voltage blurring the edges of her vision and tingling sharply in her limbs. There was nothing else to do, but comply.

It was hours later when Freya was released from her shackles, shoved into an ice cold bath and tossed a cloth with the express notion of scrubbing the grime from her skin. She was dried quickly, and dressed in the softest, palest blue silks that fluttered as she walked and shimmered in the light. Her hair was combed and styled, hanging in long dark curls down her back, while a fluid, silvery circlet was placed upon her head. A single sapphire dangling down in the center of her forehead.

Guided through the Grandmaster's tower, she was left in a seat in what she perceived to be a royal box in a colosseum that reminded her of the days of Gladiators. And she assumed that the Contest of Champions was very much similar to such ancient games.

The Grandmaster arrived shortly, addressing the packed colosseum, and the contest began.

Freya perched on the on the edge of her overly luxurious seat, watching for Hulk. It was some time later, toward the end of the games, that the green giant made an appearance, decked out in alien gladiator fashion, and anxious for a battle. Her breath hitched and her muscles tensed as she took in his opponent; a gargantuan monster of metal and hard clay. She was supposed to protect Hulk, she had thought, and yet she had done nothing of the sort since appearing on his jet.

What if he was vanquished by the champion? What if she had misread the fortunes?

The battle began, and Freya strained to keep herself seated. Hulk took blow after blow, staggering backwards and sideways, before finding his footing and striking back. It went on for ages, seemingly. Hulk would deal a devastating blow to the gargantuan, and the gargantuan would send him flying across the arena. The sight of the big guy in battle was scintillating, but the stress of watching Hulk fight for his life was enough to turn her hair white.

At one point, Hulk took a hit and didn't get up. From where she was sitting, Freya could barely see his chest rising, or his fingers twitching. As the gargantuan raised his club for the final blow, she was on her feet and pressed against the balcony so hard she almost fell over the side. In a matter of seconds, as the club swung down, Hulk grabbed the end inches from his face and crushed it in his fist.

Relaxing back into her seat, Freya watched the fight take a turn in Hulk's favor. The green giant took the upper hand and beat back the towering gargantuan, until the monster was nothing more than a pile of ripped metal and rocks. She clapped with the cheering crowd, grateful for it to be over. Hopefully, and she was taking his words with a grain of salt, that the Grandmaster would grant Hulk and she their freedom, so they could be on their way.

In her mind's eye, she say a golden city burning, and she knew that Asgard was their eventual destination.

But part of her resonated with Skaar, as if they were supposed to be here. As if they were waiting for someone. She just didn't know who, yet.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Sakaar.

The days passed in a blur of celebrations for the new arrival.

Freya gliding behind Hulk in the parades, sitting by him at the feasts, dancing for him during the revels in the streets. It was all too praise him, the champion of champions. And all with the Grandmaster's wealth to keep them both from leaving.

The champion's suite had been redecorated quickly for Hulk's comfort. The bed had been replaced with something smaller, but more than spacious enough for Hulk and his assumed, "companion." It was fine with Freya, who preferred the Grandmaster think she was Hulk's property, than to deal with his unwanted advances. The first night of celebrations, immediately following Hulk's triumph, the creepy and odd ruler of Sakaar had tried to lure her away, but thankfully her green protector had grabbed her by the waist and sat her in his lap with a snarl. Since then, the Grandmaster had respected her personal space, and her desire to remain by Hulk's side.

The nights were spent in their shared room. Hulk slept in the overwhelmingly large bed, while Freya rested on what was essentially a pile of pillows situated under a window. Hulk had curled up with her on the jet, but she was not going to assume that he would accept her presence so close to him now that they were not confined into such a compact space. She was perfectly fine watching over him until sleep drifted over her.

The days were spent strolling with Hulk to training, sometimes accompanied by the smarmy valkyrie, who had been adoringly titled, Angry Girl. Freya disliked her immensely, but kept her tongue in check since the big guy enjoyed her company so much. She watched the valkyrie train with Hulk, and sometimes Freya joined, unwilling to let her knowledge slip away. She never went up against Hulk, nor did she engage the valkyrie, but she did battle a few of the stronger opponents, and practiced honing her magic on stationary targets. It wasn't as if she were out of shape, or unable to control her own power, because it had been ingrained into her for thousands of years. Yet, there was nothing wrong with keeping up with her own specialized training, and making sure no issues arose if she ever did need to force her way off the planet.

By the fourth night, Hulk finally spoke more than a few syllables to her.

"Why Freya sleep far away?"

Turning away from the gateways and stars, she looked over to Hulk with a small smile, "I didn't want to impose. Would you like me to lay next to you?"

He nodded, making more room for her than she could possibly need, but Freya got up and glided over to the bed, nonetheless. She slipped in, resting her head on his bulging bicep, and nestled against his chest, letting his heat melt away any chill she had experienced since arriving on Sakaar. She looked up into his large, curious face and smiled, laying more on her back than on her side. Reaching up, she stroked his cheek with her pale fingers, and watched as he relaxed into her touch without any magical influence.

"Would you like me to tell you a story?" she asked, so softly, it was almost a whisper. He nodded, a crooked smile pulling at his mouth, and she obliged, working her fingers in the air above them until her blue tendrils of light created a galaxy of unique balls of light circling each other. "Before the universe burst into existence, there were the Immortals and the Celestials, each race similar and, yet, uniquely different."

Zooming in on a specific cluster, she showed Hulk the Celestials and the Immortals in a closer, internal view.

"The Celestials started as sparks of sentience at their birth, forming into brains and then planets as they grew older and evolved, creating their own race by projecting into bodies for themselves, constructs of their own consciousness of what life looked like."

The galaxy changed, and Freya's light took over as Hulk nestled closer to her small frame. She pointed to a star of silver and white light swirling together, and the image focused in on the womb-like center pulsing around one small figure, am indescribable woman with silver hair and eyes glowing with foresight.

"The Immortals grew from the essence of the universe," she explained, Hulk thoroughly enraptured in her tale. "As beings of infinite sight and power, the Immortals valued peace and refused violence to defend themselves against the uprising of the Celestials, leaving only one star to end the war. She slaughtered most of them, and banished the few still living, causing a cataclysmic event that started the universe and released the six stones of infinite existence.

"The Infinity Stones can only be handled by ancient beings, Celestials and Immortals," she continued, her magic forming the universe, as the stones erupted from the center of her shared star, cleaving the sisters apart and sending them through the realms. "Space, Reality, Mind, Soul, Power, and Time. Together, they can control the universe, or destroy it. They were spread out through the universe.

"My mother's last act as she died ending the war, produced the last two Immortals in existence as the stones erupted and bore life to the cosmos," she sighed, taking in the concern on Hulk's face. "We shone together over Asgard for millions of years, watching life blossom, and more wars wage. We grew up as stars, lived as stars, and if we had remained as such, we would have died as stars. Blinking out of the night sky."

Earth's galaxy stood far away from Asgard and its nine realms, going through its stages of life, while Asgard advanced over the years.

"I was the first to fall from the sky, pulled by my growing desire to love, and my sister followed me soon after.

"It was Heimdall, the Keeper of the Bifrost, who found us in the forests beyond," she continued. "He understood that the longe stayed on Asgard, the more powerful we became. We could not touch without consequences, and Heimdall sent us to Earth, separately, to protect the realms. Together, but still apart, until we were drawn together for a greater good. We lived on separate continents, in separate cultures, and vowed to protect the mortals, but never meddle."

The image changed to Freya and her sister, living in different tribes, teaching what they knew, and respecting life - connected to the center of Earth. It flitted through Freya's life on Earth, the devastating decision she had to make when the Titans and Olympians grew too powerful, the years she spent asleep, and Hulk, the reason she woke, and the tragic torture in a pair of green eyes.

"Freya see Hulk."

She nodded, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye with a smile, "I was was drawn to you for a reason. We are meant for something greater than ourselves.

"Freya," said Hulk, from a breath low in his chest. "Freya my friend."

The images faded away, and Hulk drifted off first, curled around her protectively, while she stared up at the ceiling trying to piece together what his words meant. It wasn't long until Freya could not fight the lure of sleep any longer, despite how desperately she wished she could unravel the many layers of the creature laying next to her...


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The two years that followed passed in a blur.

The friendship between Hulk and Freya deepened and grew, even as his popularity increased tenfold and his favor with the Grandmaster solidified with every victory in battle. Hulk was the beloved, prized champion, and Freya, as his constant companion and caretaker, had been begrudgingly accepted into high society, on his behalf. Hulk was incredibly protective of her, and she, as well. She protected his interests, protected him from the more lucrative expectations the Grandmaster desired him for, and Hulk threatened anyone who dared to get too close. On Sakaar, they could only truly trust each other.

Yet, she conceded that she had grown quite lonely, uncoupled for thousands of years. There were moments that she allowed herself to melt into Hulk's sides as they walked the streets, enjoying the parades and revelry of the humbled classes. It was reflexive after months of constant proximity, but she was also aware that it could mean nothing, or everything.

There were plenty of decent looking humanoid species on Sakaa that were tall with wide hips and the ability to accommodate his size. She was far from naive, as they bathed together quite frequently. She scrubbed his back, and washed his hair. She worked the anger from his taut muscles, while she regaled him with ancient tales, and she was acutely aware of the effect she had on him. She was not physically able to handle his baser needs, and this was understood.

But, still…

She noticed him at the celebration following another victory. As Hulk escaped down to the streets to partake in the revelry, Freya had chosen to stay where there were stronger drinks, better food, and less noise. Most of all, despite her undying affection for Hulk, and his insistence that he would not hurt her, Freya was waiting for someone to arrive.

He strode in next to the Grandmaster, an aura of ease and grace about him that drew her attention immediately. His hair was as black as the darkest reaches of the universe, his face angular and sharp, his complexion much her own - as pale as alabaster, and as smooth as satin. He was tall, regal, and muscled in a deceiving manner. Dressed in royal Asgardian garb of the richest green, she had no doubt as to whom had arrived more than a week ago on Sakaar.

Loki of Asgard, son of Odin. Prince to a righteous throne. Orphan of Laufey, ruler of the frost giants.

Invader of New York.

Yet, as the Grandmaster guided him around, introducing him to the Sakaarian ruler's most preferred sycophants, it was the Asgardian's eyes that mystified her the most.

Green.

It had become her favorite color.

Loki had met her gaze the second he entered the room, and although his manners were superb, his focus continued to stray back to her, again and again, as he circulated the room at the Grandmaster's side.

Sipping from her glass, Freya perched on a plush chair and watched the way he moved, spoke, and smiled politely, enchanting all that greeted him.

Eventually, she was pulled from her thoughts, and into an enthusiastic conversation of several high stakes gamblers regarding Hulk, champion of champions. She answered questions vaguely, and politely indulged the group when it suited her, the Sakaarian nobility ever so enthralled by the mystery that was the Hulk. He was of no known race anyone had come across, yet fascinatingly unbeatable against the strongest and more battle hardened species in the universe. Hulk had earned them all a small fortune in the recent years, and she was praised on his behalf, as the ever present companion of their most celebrated warrior.

The group parted for the Grandmaster, as the Red Sea had parted for Moses, and his enigmatic guest. The Grandmaster was in high spirits, giddy and jovial post-contest. He introduced everyone to the new arrival, and it did cross her mind how experienced in charm and diplomacy this Loki of Asgard must be to have escaped the arena. The raven haired God enthralled the group, with a mischievous grin and quick wit that only practiced politicians possessed. She wondered how long he had lived hiding his melancholy deep beneath the surface, and to do so as well as he did.

"Last, but not least, the Lady Freya," announced the Grandmaster, as close to her as physically possible without garnering himself a rather enraged champion. "She is the companion of my beloved champion, you know."

Freya smiled, bright and warm, and playfully patting the Grandmaster's cheek with the softest of touches, before she extended a graceful hand to the God of Mischief, "I merely watch over our Grandmaster's champion, and protect his interests. It is a great pleasure to meet you, Loki of Asgard."

The Asgardian's surprise flitted over his features so quickly, it was almost as if it never happened, as his face smoothed into a gracious grin, while he took her offered hand and brushed his lips over her skin. His eyes glittered when she stroked her thumb over his own flesh, her tongue wetting her lips subtly, his touch buzzing with a chilly magic that stuttered her breath.

"Charmed, my Lady," replied Loki, having not yet relinquished her hand, thumb stroking over the back of her dainty wrist. "Forgive me, but have we previously been acquainted?"

"Your reputation precedes you on Asgard and Midgard," she answered, bowing her head, still breathless from the sensation of his own unique magic mingling with her own, crisp, cold and soothing. "I believe we have acquaintances in common."

"Then, I believe, we have much to discuss," he smirked slyly, and his eyes glittered pure emerald in the sun. "Perhaps it will be rectified this evening? With a dance, if you'll agree?"

"I do."

She accepted his arm, both excusing themselves, aware of the intensity of the Grandmaster's calculating gaze. He guided her to the dance floor with swift grace, and they waltzed, beautifully fluid as they let the stares and gossip fade away, until it was only them, gliding, twirling, and moving in sync to technologically altered melodies that would normally make them cringe.

Freya, for her part, enjoyed the ease in which they danced together, forging their own tempo across the dance floor, while avoiding the other couples with poise. Their magic mingling between their clasped hands, winter frost caressing the first blooms of spring. She focused on him, the way his lips twitched at the corners, his eyes gleamed with curiosity, his adam's apple bobbed as he struggled to remain composed.

"Be blunt with your intentions," Loki said, leaning forward to speak softly in her ear, a polite smile masking his calculating nature. "I will have an answer as to how you are you comfortably acquainted."

"Be patient, dear prince," she said quietly, stroking his cheek with a gentle finger. "We have all night…"

She had found her prey...


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

They appeared in Freya's suite, in a swirl of emerald green and searing midnight blue.

A tangle of limbs, hands, legs and mouths fought for dominance, both used to being in command and taking charge. Backs slammed into walls, nails dug through leather, and lips ached with the desire for more. They drank urgently from each other, their individual magic and power burning brightly in the darkness, dancing around the other as passionate as hurried lovers.

Loki grasped the side of her slender neck, fingers digging into her scalp, tangled in her thick locks, desperate for air, yet desperate for their their lips to never part, "How are you doing this to me? What ethereal being has ensnared me this night?"

She smiled against his lips, and with a whispered breath offered him no solace, "Lust is a heavy brew, my prince. It carries you like the sweetest wine, and burns in you like wildfire… Strip for me."

With a tinge of darkness surrounding her, pushing against the blue of her aura, Freya pulled away with a smirk and settled in a plush chair, languid and focused, like a predatory feline waiting in the night. Loki looked upon her with an air of shock and surprise, of indignation and arousal. It was unexpected, yet thrilling, and he took it as a challenge to his own authority. He would not relinquish dominance so easily, and it triggered a rush of electric warmth that swept down Freya's spine all the way to her toes.

She bit her lip and watched him, head tilted to the side, as her long, dark hair draped over the arm and brushed against the floor. She would admit that he was quite a specimen of mixed blood, deceivingly so. Frost giant firmness and strength hid underneath the surface of the regal handsomeness of his Asgardian ancestry, a vengeful winter raging through overpowering magical potential. A dark horse in a city of golden light.

"It's been quite a long time since I have indulged my darker nature," she said, eyes focused on every sharp angle and smooth line of his face, her own heady fire of arousal burning through her eyes. "I will not ask again."

"You underestimate your appeal," growled Loki, standing his ground against her influence on his baser urges. He was more composed in situations as this, no matter that it had been centuries since his last tryst. He had always retained a commanding presence, a clear calculating mind, and reigned over his partners. Never had he been controlled by his own desires and urges. Deep in the recesses of his mind, he knew this woman - this being of beauty and intensity - would be the ruin of him, if allowed it. "I am the king if Asgard. You will not make me yield."

Freya accepted his rejection of her challenge, and stood swiftly, with grace.

Stepping out of her golden slippers, she circled him, barefooted and internally longing for the harsh chill of his magic, the rough touch of his hands on her skin once more. The predatory gaze melted away, replaced with a hunger that radiated through Loki so thoroughly, he felt a flush of searing heat run up his back. He watched her with an acute eye and precarious curiosity, that when she brushed the shimmery straps of her gown off her shoulders, he groaned at the sight of naked flesh begging for him to mark it.

"What are you doing?"

He was grinding his teeth, jaw clenched to refrain from reaching out and touching her, maiming her in the most pleasurable ways he knew. He was aching for her to touch him, to be able to touch her without relinquishing any more control or dominion to her. In no way would he bow to her whims.

"Are you so rigid that you would refuse yourself a night of wild, wanton passion?" was her question, as her gown slid seductively down her body to the floor, a cloud of wispy silk at her feet. "Would you deny your curiosity?"

She continued circling him, her magic spreading out to create duplicates of herself, all nude and glowing with the light of a newborn star, blue and black curling around each and every one of them. Fingers mimicked the true Freya, gliding down between several sets of small, pert, pale breasts, the circle around Loki growing more intimate, more overwhelming with every elongated, shuddered breath.

Small, slender hands caressed the leather of his armor wear, and it was the start of his undoing.

"Show your true self," the Freyas cooed in unison, closing in on him, hands moving over his chest, his arms, his back, "and I will show you mine."

Wherever they touched, his armor faded away, and soon he was naked and vulnerable to their gaze, their presence, their caresses. He stood, pressed between a handful of Freyas, naked flesh against naked flesh. The combined sensation of hands and mouths roaming over and worshipping his exposed skin, and the flitting warmth of her magic enveloping him, was enough to intoxicate him.

Their magic reacted to each other passionately, and her essence was becoming addictive, quickly. It was as if she could see inside him, tug the strings to make him submit, and it only made him want to win more. He wanted to see how far she would go, feel her desperation, smell her arousal and hear her beg for just one touch before he would even consider relenting and allow himself to drink from the depths of her.

Lips pressed a chaste kiss to his pelvis, soft hair grazing against the sensitive flesh of his erection, and as he shuddered, his Asgardian appearance lifting, exposing the frost giant underneath. The Freyas dispersed in wisps of graying blue, and the true enchantress remained, kneeling before him, reminiscent of a star shining everso brightly in the night sky over Asgard. The twinkle in her eye was like that of the stories Frigga once told him, of the immortal stars who created the universe with their rays of pure light and gentle nature. How the last two had shone above Asgard for so long, they fell in love with life, and fell from the sky as sisters, manifestations of light and shadow, to walk among the people and bless them with their favor.

The rest becomes heresay, as Frigga adamantly swore the sister stars, true Goddesses of immense power and influence, were worshipped, until Odin sent them away, for fear the people of Asgard would perish for the love they bore the deities. Odin had laughed, saying the sisters had left of their own accord, to a fledgling world-

His mind found the answer to his question long before the woman ever intended to provide it. Unfortunately, her sweet lips had parted over the tip of him, and she had begun a sensual rhythm that threatened to bring him to his knees. The heat of her mouth seared through the sub-zero temperature of his skin in the most profoundly pleasurable way, that Loki, Prince of Asgard, orphaned heir to the Frost Giant king Laufey, was reduced to incoherency and whimpers.

When she pulled away to speak, he was on the verge of growling out his release.

"You figured it out," she breathed, standing with ease. She pulled him into a long, languid kiss, pushing him backwards onto the bed, whispering against his cold lips, "What a clever prince you are."

"An Immortal," he breathed, enjoying the warm return of his Asgardian form and the feel of her lips gracing the line of his collarbone, her hands tracing the indentations of his abdominals, her thighs clenching over the low sling of his hips. She nipped and bit at his skin tenderly, yet urgently, and he bucked under her ministrations. "Never in my wildest fantasies...It's simply not possible. I thought star-beings had always been myth."

"Anything is possible," she smirked. A wave of her hand had Loki settled at the head of the bed, centered comfortably amongst the plushest, softest pillows. Silk ropes secured his arms and legs to each corner of the bed, as she rose up above him and lined up the tip of his impressive cock with her aching cunt. "Do I feel like a myth?"

She slid down his hard shaft, taking her time to revel in the completeness, her body stretched to accommodate his size. Freya huffed a breathy moan when she reached the end of him, her cunt pressed against his pelvis, his head pushing up against her cervix in a painfully delicious way. Her nails raked down his chest as she adjusted without relieving an inch of him. It was asif their very souls were binding together, burning through each other before they had even begun.

Loki's eyes rolled back, his body writhing under her, desperate for even an iota of friction, while he strained the ropes around his wrists, hungry to touch her, feel her. He realized he had yet to cup the gloriously small globes of her breasts, yet, and her pale pink nipples called to him, begging him to pluck at them with his tongue, his teeth, his fingers. The waiting was driving him mad, and the sight above him was too tempting to simply lay there. It was becoming pure torture.

When Freya did begin to move, it was at an egregiously slow pace. Every throb and every pulsing vein of his cock could be felt with so graphically that she knew how wound up he had become by the speed of his heartbeat. It was intoxicating, the power she was wielding over him just by enveloping him between her legs. He was strong, she would give him that. The prince, or king, had fought the heavy weight of lust far more easily than she, and it had been quite a few thousand years since she had tussled with anyone.

Although, she had never experienced such an instantaneous, overwhelming attraction to anyone. Her kind had never loved freely, if at all. It was so rare, to find that true mate in such a small cluster of space, that only a very few Immortals had managed it, considering how closely knit the families were by the time the Celestials mounted their war.

Lust was more practical.

And she had become quite lonely, and saddened that she could not be with the one she had come to truly care about.

"Faster," growled Loki, desperate for more. She fluttered and squeezed around his cock, earning her another growl, as he bucked violently up into her. "Cease this torture, witch! Move!"

Leaning down, she moved more slowly, drinking in his frustration with a languid kiss, enjoying the angry snarls, the bites to her lower lip, and his attempt to wrench himself free of the silk restraints. She had not felt this carefree in so long, allowing her more perverse and naughtier fantasies surface. She had the dark desire to hear him beg, to make him so desperate, so frustrated, that he ripped his limbs free and punished her harshly for it.

With gentle moans and an ironclad control over her desire, for the moment, Freya rode him agonizingly slowly, a fire smoldering deep in her belly, and a tension strung tight through Loki. It was such a creeping pace, but it drove him beyond mad, anger and insanity, both, and she delighted in his struggle against his bonds, the hard slap of his hips slamming up against her thighs, determined to force her just a bit faster, a sense of urgency in the way he writhed underneath her. Their magic flowed freely around them, filling the room with the chill of devastating winters and the smell of floral spring, intermingling in the most exotic way, flowing with each other sensually.

As Freya reached the peak of her pleasure, orgasm washing over her in subtle ripples, Loki finally managed to break through the enchantments on his restraints and free himself completely.

With swift agility, he flipped their positions, bearing down over Freya with a menacing leer. Still buried inside her, he pressed deeper, harder against her cervix, watching the conflicting sensations play out in her face - the twinges of pain that flickered through as the last gentle waves of her release ebbed away. She was still wet, still hot, still itching for something... _more._

"You will pay for that, dearly," he snarled against her gaping mouth, the feel of him bearing into her cervix without pause forcing her to arch her back into him, presenting her breasts to him in a most pleasing way. "I will ruin you."

Freya moaned, shrill and whimpering, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, "I would expect nothing less."


End file.
